


What Could've Been

by thereluctantguardian



Series: Moxley Vingnettes [1]
Category: All Elite Wrestling
Genre: Out of Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:33:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23859862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thereluctantguardian/pseuds/thereluctantguardian
Summary: Someone on Reddit was talking about how Marty Scurll’s Dark Order could’ve been the start of a take over of AEW bringing in the Nightmare Collective, and the Blade, the Butcher, and Bunny under one giant faction. It would’ve have led to a massive civil war with people wondering who (or if) the wild cards (like Havoc, Darby, Janela, and Moxley) will side with.This is my take on the idea so this takes place back when Moxley wanted a sanctioned match with Omega, Havoc was being fined for using weapons, Darby was still untested, and Janela (for the purposes of this story) was being targeted by the Dark Order.
Series: Moxley Vingnettes [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1719415
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	What Could've Been

This wrestling match had devolved into a brutal brawl almost as soon as the bell rang and none of the four men were giving any quarter. The roar of the crowd swelled in a wave of overwhelming noise as Darby Allin knocked Joey Janela down to the ground and immediately headed to the corner turnbuckle to set up a coffin drop. He checked over for the other two hardcore wrestlers; Moxley had Havoc in the far corner and was busy pounding his fist into the other man’s face. Neither man would interfere; Darby could win the whole match while everyone was distracted. He scrambled up the ropes as quickly as he dared, ribs aching from where Havoc had nailed him earlier. But no sooner had he gained his footing, positioned perfectly for the coffin drop, then the cheering turned into confused murmuring. Darby quickly looked around, fearing Moxley or Havoc were going to sneak his pin from him, and instantly froze as the Dark Order creepers started to come over the barriers, edging around the ring. 

Darby slowly, as if moving too fast would trigger the creepers to attack, got down from the turnbuckle, eyes never leaving the growing hoard. One cautious step backward at a time, Darby slowly edged away from the ropes, moving past a dazed Joey who was only just sitting up groggily. Joey glanced around confused about what was going on, but the pounding in his head was quickly forgotten as he saw the creepers swiping at him from the ring apron. Alarmed, Joey flinched away from their reaching grasps, and his eyes widened as he saw Evil Uno and Grayson appear behind the creepers, eyes fixed on their favorite prey. Joey scrambled back in an award crab walk, anxious to stay away from the men who had been tormenting him for the last few months.  


The change in the crowd finally clued Moxley into situation happening all around them, momentarily looking up from where he had Havoc pinned against the turnbuckle, body bent backwards as Mox shoved his forearm into Havoc’s face. He almost immediately locked eyes with the Butcher and the Blade. They were just standing there watching, while the Bunny smiled that secret smile that did not bode well for anyone. Moxley backed off Havoc, eyes still watching the trio as they were joined by more and more creepers, recognizing the growing threat for what it was. Mox snarled at them; if they wanted to interfere in this match, well, they were welcome to try. 

Havoc, wondering why Mox had given up the advantage, slowly followed Mox’s line of sight over his shoulder to see the mercenary trio and the creepers. He leapt away from the corner where he was pinned, Moxley forgotten for the moment. Almost in unison, Havoc and Mox started to back away from the ropes, defiant but wary as they were clearly outnumbered. Mox felt something back into him, and he looked over his shoulder, snarl ready to go at whoever was at his back, but quickly realized that it was Darby backing up from the newly arrived Nightmare Collective who had joined the ever-growing horde of creepers. Mox gritted his teeth in frustration and anger as he took in the situation, biting out a curse.  


Havoc stayed at Mox’s left shoulder shouting out a string of curse words that were sure to get bleeped out later, brandishing his staple gun that Mox had no idea where he pulled it from. He wildly gestured for the Blade and Butcher to come at him. Directly at his back, Allin remained unnaturally still, body tense and ready as he remained locked onto the Nightmare Collective. Mox had never heard of Darby hitting a woman before, and Darby didn’t look too eager to start now. The kid had heart and a set of brass balls, but Mox wasn’t sure Darby had the nerve to do what he had to do to get out of this situation. 

On the other side of Mox, Joey sat on his ass staring at the Dark Order, and judging by his body language, Janela didn’t look too eager to get any closer to the cult. Finally, Joey scrambled to his feet, body tense and jittery, but fists up and ready. Moxley turned back to his own corner of the ring, regarding the overwhelming amount of creepers that scratched and clawed to get at him. As tough as Mox could be, he was still only one man, and numbers were not on his side. The truth was, they were surrounded, standing back to back in tight circle in the middle of the ring, his former opponents turned into temporary, uneasy allies against a bigger threat. Well, fuck it then. Mox sneered at the swarm of creepers, squared his shoulders, and brought his hands up, arms tight to his sides, motioning for the creepers to come get some. He may go down, but he was going to take as many of these bastards as he could with him. 

As silently as the creepers appeared at ringside, a figure slowly emerged from the tunnel on stage, an umbrella carelessly tossed across his shoulder. He sauntered to the top of the ramp, barely even acknowledging the fine tension strung wire tight, ready to snap. The four wrestlers in the ring cautiously turned their attention to the man on stage, although none of them moved, keeping their guard up as if waiting for the man to give the signal to attack. 

Meanwhile, the man surveyed the crowd as a king would his kingdom, drinking in the crowd’s attention as if it were his due, purposefully keeping the men in the ring waiting on a precipice just because he could. Mox hated the man on sight.

Darby heard Moxley grumbling, and wondered if Mox would end up throwing the first punch. If not him, Havoc was just as likely in Darby’s opinion. The crowd held their breath, a hush settling over the arena, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Darby’s sharp gaze watched as the man casually swung the umbrella down, resting the tip on the ground in front of him, leaning forward slightly to rest on the handle. A smirk played on the man’s lips as he finally looked down into the ring. The man’s eyes were hidden behind his sunglasses, but Darby was sure they were glittering with mirth and satisfaction as he held every one is suspense.

One moment passed. 

Two. 

Then three… 

The crowd was growing restless; either they were going to break or Moxley’s temper was. 

The sharp rapping of the umbrella against the metal ramp broke the near silence of the arena, and the four wrestlers in the ring whirled their attention back to the gaggle of creepers and factions on the outside, waiting for the attack that sound obviously signaled. But like a receding tide, the creepers withdrew instead of swarming the ring, much to the surprise and confusion of the four inside the ring. With one last smirk at Havoc, the Bunny led the Butcher and the Blade back over the barricade while Brandi waved the Nightmare Collective off, her amused gaze never leaving Darby until she disappeared behind the barricade. The Dark Order were the last to leave even as the creepers all slithered away, their focus trained on Janela; Evil Uno wiggling his fingers in a twisted version of a wave goodbye. Joey didn’t fully relax until both were out of sight. 

Mox, though, furious at being deprived of a fight both before the creepers arrived and now as they slunk away, whirled to face the ramp, determined spend his pent-up energy pounding in someone’s face, but the ramp was empty. The man had already disappeared.

****

“What the fuck was that?!” Mox shouted as stormed into the back room where his three previous opponents were waiting. Darby was perched on a crate, hunched over, clutching at his ribs. Havoc was leaning back on a crate next to Allin, exhaustion evident. Joey was pacing erratically, smoking a cigarette, eyes focused on the floor as he paced. 

“That ponce was thee Marty Scurll. I guess he’s done playing around,” Havoc said matter of factually. 

“Scurll?” Mox asked incredulously. “The Elite, Marty Scurll?” Mox was only getting angrier about hearing another one of the Elite was fucking him over. “Sounds like an Elite problem.”

“You think they haven’t tried,” Havoc answered. “You think the Bucks, Kenny, haven’t tried to talk to him, get him to calm his tits? You think Cody hasn’t tried to talk some sense into his wife?”

“They are everywhere. They have eyes and ears everywhere,” Joey muttered around the cigarette; eyes downcast.

“Christ, it can’t be that hard-“ Moxley started, clearly already dismissive. 

“Well, while you were gone, Jon, galivanting off in Japan, the rest of us were dealing with this shitshow here,” Janela sneered. 

“Oh, what? You can’t handle a couple of guys in a mask, Janela?” Mox got right up in Joey’s face, nearly forehead to forehead with the smaller man. Joey shoved him back, shouting angrily. Mox wasn’t having it though, ready to come right back at him, when Darby’s voice cut through the din.

“Jon!” Darby raised his voice to her above the ruckus, causing both men to stop suddenly. “It’s not just a couple of creepers.” Mox turned away from Janela who also turned to look at Darby. Darby, still hunched over, tilted his head slightly to look at Mox. “They have people everywhere, in production, backstage hands, security, in the crowds…” Darby continued on, tone deadly serious. “People are disappearing, taken, sometimes mid match, sometimes they come back… a little different.” Darby paused glancing at Janela who refused to meet his gaze, and went back to sucking on his cigarette, eyes haunted. Mox glanced at Joey, realization slowly dawning on him, the furious line of his body radiating a different kind of tension as he took in Joey’s sudden change in demeanor. 

“And other times,” Havoc stepped in, pushing past the uncomfortable tension, “they come back, fucked in the head. Brainwashed, spewing rhetoric, cutlish shit.” Mox glanced remained silent, side eying Havoc as if weighing the weight of his words. 

“I’ve dealt with cult bullshit before. This isn’t-“

“Mox.” Darby stated tonelessly. “We haven’t seen or heard form Tony Khan in months.” Mox stilled as the reality of the situation set in. He glanced around at the other two for confirmation, barely believing what he just heard. Joey’s cigarette dangled limply from his lips, eyes blank, staring at the ground as if it could give him all the answers. Havoc met Mox’s gaze though, nodding wearily in confirmation. 

“Shit!” Mox bit out, starting to pace erratically as if he couldn’t decide what direction he wanted to go in, getting angrier the longer he continued. Not that Mox had any great love for Tony Khan, but this wasn’t just a group of guys running around being assholes; when you kidnap the owner of a wrestling company, you are trying to make a statement, you are taking over.

“This isn’t something you can punch your way out of, Mox.” Darby Allin cautioned, as if he could see Mox was gearing himself up to kick everyone’s ass as if that would solve the problem.  
Mox looked ready to argue, when a figure stepped into the room. 

“Gentlemen,” Marty greeted jovially. The reaction was instantaneous. Darby jumped down from the crate, not even wincing at his sore ribs. Janela spun away from Marty, cigarette forgotten on the ground, while Havoc scooped up his staple gun ready to go.

“You little bastard,” Mox sneered, reaching out to grab a fist full of coat, yanking the man up to his tip toes. 

“Whoa, whoa!” Marty gasped, raising his hands in surrender. “Hold on there, Moxley. I’m just here to talk.” Mox glared at the man, but as Marty just hung there unmoving, he slowly set the man back on his feet, keeping a firm grasp on the man’s coat ready to pummel Scurll, just in case. “I just want to speak with all of you. I have a proposition.” 

“I’m not joining your…” Joey started, but Marty quickly interrupted.

“No! No, not join. I’m not asking you to join.” Marty insisted. “I’m simply asking you to do nothing.”

Silence blanketed the room at that statement, as the four hardcore men stood there in surprise and confusion. Mox squinted at the man, not fully believing his proclamation, but the man was outnumbered 4 to 1 so coming in here wasn’t actually conducive if he didn’t have an actual offer, so Mox slowly release his death grip on Marty’s coat, and stepped back. He would listen. For now.  
Marty took a moment to straighten out his coat before Havoc, annoyed at the delay, asked, “What did you mean by do nothing?” 

Marty smiled at the group in front of him as if he wasn’t worried about the potential of an ass kicking by four angry hardcore wrestlers, and that made Mox grind his teeth in consternation. The smaller man better start talking fast or Mox would be glad to introduce him to his fist. 

“Exactly what I said. All I want from you four is for you to do absolutely nothing.”

“What’s the catch?” Darby questioned. He didn’t for one second think this was legit.

“No catch, no clauses, no double talk.” Marty assured them. “You see, this is a personal matter between me and the Elite.”

“Then why drag everyone else into shit?” Havoc interrupted unwilling to wait for Marty’s grandstanding.

“Because the Elite made AEW. They started a whole new company, left me for dead. The Elite wandered off to this new thing inviting all their friends, Cutler, Nakazawa, Riho, smoozing at high end parties, becoming EVPs, Tony Khan gifting them with lavish presents, while I’m standing out in the cold with not even a phone call. Until they needed me, until they needed help. Until the Inner Circle became too much, and they needed me.” Marty’s calm demeaner deem to steadily diminish the more he went into detail. “Poor, little stupid Marty. Always come running when they call, like a stupid loyal dog. We all had a laugh over it,” Marty sneered. “Well, I’m done laughing.”

Marty seemed to regain his composure before continuing, “They forgot about me while they had everything in AEW. So now, I am going to take AEW from them. I will take everything they had and leave them with nothing.”

“Fascinating,” Moxley drawled arms crossed, unmoved. “What’s that got to do with us?”

“Tell me, how are you guys thriving in AEW’s system?” Marty smiled. “Laughed at..” looking at Joey, “looked down on because of how you look and how you act…” looking then at Darby and then at Havoc, “treated differently because of how you think?” Mox met Marty’s gaze, still unamused, but still listening. Marty, intending to drive the point home, advanced on Moxey. “You more than anyone would know how it feels, Jon. How many times did they laugh at you, call you a lunatic, treat you like you were stupid; how long did they forget about you until they needed your help? How often were you called a different kind of cat?” Mox stiffened at that phrase.

Marty turned away facing the group as a whole. “But with the Elite gone, all that goes away. No more Young Bucks, no Cody, and no more standing in their shadows. My AEW will bring the shadows to light.”

Joey stiffened as Scurll faced him directly. “No more being shoved to the back, Joey, bypassed for opportunities.” Joey leaned away slightly as Marty drew closer.” What about-“

“The Dark Order? Gone. They’ll never bother you again.” Marty waved dismissively. Joey looked away as if to think about it.

“Free to do what you want, Jimmy.” Marty went onto the next prospect. “No more fines. You can use any kind of weapons you want because you’re Jimmy fuckin’ Havoc.” Havoc’s eyes widened at the thought before staring down at his staple gun in contemplation. 

“Darby, you don’t have to be just another attraction here,” Marty turned to the youngest member. “You were a champion; you can be one again. No one is going to tell you you’re too small, too skinny, or too weird to be the face of AEW.” Darby’s stance never changed, but a lick of doubt seemed to spark in his eyes.

Finally, Marty Scurll turned to Jon Moxley.

“So, what are you going to offer me? A shiny new belt, beating up people as I please with no repercussions? I can already take that for myself; I don’t need you for that.” Moxley groused.

“But I can give you what AEW and Tony Khan wouldn’t. A match, with Kenny Omega, sanctioned.” Moxley’s eyes widened at the prospect of a thing he’s wanted since the beginning. “Think about it, with Tony Khan and the Elite gone, no one will be there to protect Omega. You can have at him however you please. Street fight, cage match, deathmatch, straight up wrestling, a forklift on a pole, whatever. And it will count this time.” The offer was tantalizing to Mox, almost irresistible.

“All you need to do, when Cody rallies the troops in the ring,” Marty promised the other men “and I know he’ll do it, the grandstanding little prick, is do nothing. You don’t have to throw a punch, or join my team. Leave the fighting between me and the rest of the roster. I mean, it’s really none of your business, after all. I have no quarrel with you.”

Marty began to leave the room, his work done, but not without one final plea” “Just…sit this one out.” And with that, he was gone. 

The room was silent as no one wanted to be the first to speak. Apprehensively, all four men glanced at each other, unsure of what just happened before they each one glance away lost in the potential promises but uncertain of what they would do next.


End file.
